She tapped the (probably fake) silver of her many rings against the (probably fake) reclaimed-wood bar. Her voice as tinny and obnoxious as the Bon Iver playing through the speakers above her head.
"What do you mean you're out of Modelo?" she asked the bartender, leaving him scratching his beanie. Before he could attempt an answer, a barback in a plain white T-shirt slinked in with a pushcart full of the cheap Mexican lager. She squealed with delight and returned to her friends, can in hand
Five years ago, no one in this bar would have given a damn if there was no Modelo. Shit, no one would have probably cared two years ago. Or maybe even six months ago. But the tides have turned. After nearly a decade of elevated, ironic embrace, millennials and cusp Gen X-ers alike have shifted their attention away from their beloved PBR. Even CNN/Money has declared it no longer "hot," the branding equivalent of your Great Aunt Fern calling your haircut lame AF.
And while the word "hipster" is pretty much the last fart of the dying corpse of culture that made PBR trendy again in the first place, it aptly describes the demographic we need to focus on: young, urban, "creative," kind of conceited, possibly you. If you can think of a better name please let me know.
Many cheaper beers have tussled for the title of King of (Hipster) Beers during PBR's transition back to blue-collar favorite. But Modelo is currently sitting on the throne. As a result, the insufferably hip are helping their new tallboy of choice become America's fastest-growing beer. Here's how it (probably) happened.